“Restless Inside” is a selection from my first book of poetry In Speaking Of…
By Nikki Anne Schmutz
as a piece of string with not a thing to bind
as a root of a bulb awaiting a frozen Winter’s thaw
as an unwound kite on a flat summer’s afternoon
as a bound umbrella waiting in the heavy stand at the door
as a shell taken up from its water, left to dry on a shelf
as a lock forgotten by years, hidden in layers of dust
as an ocean wave never able to hold the sand in its grasp
as a letter hidden in the crumbling wall of an old Victorian
as a gust of wind personified, exiled to the unseen realm
as a sail-less vessel docked in a cemented harbor
as an etched crystal vase in the cupboard longing for use
as a stream racing downhill when it wishes to climb
as a baby grand piano unplayed, covered with ages of dust
as a drawn curtain wanting to part, allowing rays to enter
as an hourglass wishing to be turned, spilling its sand once again
as a tear unable to escape the confines of its cause
as a heart awaiting to be claimed by its only love…
the now, the past, what is to be
restless for it all, restless to just be…
Words unspoken become needles constantly pushing into us. We push them aside thinking – out of sight, out of mind. But that isn’t how it works. The things we don’t deal with stay with us. Whether we realize it or not, we dwell on the things unspoken. We crash into them in times unexpected. Our boats capsize and we are lost in the sea of all we wished to leave alone.
~ Nikki Anne Schmutz
Years of red, years of green
years of something… in between.
A polluted mess of colors colliding,
colors protruding, colors sliding
into one another creating new hues
sticking to the bottom of my worn shoes.
Days of black, nights of white
weeks of sudden feelings of flight.
A tainted mixture of dark and light
both combining, both defining
an inner boundary around the hole
separating my heart from my soul.
Months of knowledge warningly imminent.
Months of awareness… taxing commitment.
Then a calming tempest of colors within,
soothing, bending, mending the sins.
Momentous change surrounds,
and my misplaced soul becomes found.
Hours of white, hours of light
Hours since the caged bird took flight.
Ribbons of liberated collaboration
within each and every situation
stitching the rend between
The present and the past invisibly seam.
This is a poem written many, many years ago. It is included in my first poetry book “In Speaking Of… A Poetic Journey From Dark to Light”.
~ Nikki Anne Schmutz